


Twelve Pies of Christmas

by MyGoldenChances



Category: Waitress - Bareilles/Nelson
Genre: Anthology, Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-12 15:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyGoldenChances/pseuds/MyGoldenChances
Summary: Scenes from the first 12 Christmases of Lulu's life [2018 Holiday Fic]





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is my 2018 Christmas fic. I was just going to write one part, but I decided...why not 12? I'll be posting these over the next several days. Hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season. Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas/every winter holiday!

A cold chill shot through Jenna as she emerged from a deep sleep. She pulled the covers in closer to her, rolling over to check the clock on the bedside table. Somehow it was before 6:00 and she hadn’t been woken all night by cries for a diaper change or a feeding. For the first time in months, she felt rested despite the early hour.

She could probably go back to sleep for a little longer if she wanted.

Except she had a sleeping infant in the crib on the other side of the room who would probably be bursting into tears any minute. So, braving the cold, she kicked off her covers and wished she had a pair of socks as she tiptoed across the hardwood floor.

Lulu was awake and kicking around when Jenna made it over to her. She cooed and began to wave her little arms at the sight of her mother.

Jenna grinned as she reached in to pick up the little one. If anyone had told her that the pregnancy she thought was a punishment would lead to this tiny light of her life, she would've refused to believe them. Yet here she was, holding the most precious person in her life and cooing right back at her as she gently rocked her.

“I can’t believe you slept all night, little girl,” she murmured as she felt the infant’s diaper and carried her over to her changing station.

After a change and a fresh onesie--the festive striped green, red, and white one with Rudolph on it that Becky had picked out--Jenna set out to feed her. However, as she carried Lulu to the rocking chair, she remembered the forecast for a rare Christmas snow and found herself needing to check.

If it did snow, it would be the first snow of the year, and Lulu’s first snow ever on her first Christmas. And while not everyone put stock in firsts like this, she could still recall winters when her mama was still alive. Every first snow, they would get out together and build a snowman. If there wasn’t enough snow for one, or even snow angels or sledding, they would take a walk. Then they would come home, bake pie, and drink cocoa.

Lulu, of course, was too little for those things. She wouldn’t even remember seeing the snow until she was older. However, getting to share the first snow with her, especially on Christmas, was a moment she would happily take after months of sleepless nights and other more pressing struggles.

With anticipation, she shuffled over to the window, and pulled up the blinds.

Outside everything was covered in a sheet of white, and flakes were still pouring. Even in the dim twilight of early morning, it was bright. Lulu stared out, eyes glowing and wide at the brand new sight.

Jenna gasped as Lulu let out an _oohhh_. “What is that??” she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm and continued to whisper to her about the snow.

With a giggle at her daughter’s wonder, she stared out the window, watching the snow fall. She pictured her and Lulu, when she was older, trekking out to the field behind the apartment complex and building a snowman. She pictured them building forts and chasing each other with snowballs. She pictured walking Lulu down to the bus, catching snowflakes on their tongues like she and her mama used to do. Then she pictured the two of them coming in to warm up, putting on their softest PJs and drinking apple cider or cocoa.

She pictured Christmas mornings like this, except Lulu was big enough to come bounding into the bedroom to wake her up to open presents. She thought of baking Christmas cookies and stuffing stockings and making ornaments for all the pie shop crew.

Then she thought of how, in a matter of hours, she and her little girl would be surrounded by dear friends--no, family--who loved them. How everyone would pass Lulu around and play with her, and she would soak up all of the attention as she usually did. Dawn would try to be affectionate while Ogie would make funny faces. Becky would yell at them for being baby-hogs and then finally get her, gossiping to the six-month-old about how she should trust her Aunt Becky more than “those nerds” before blowing raspberries on her tummy to make her laugh.

It was the first Christmas in years she was looking forward to. She would enjoy every minute of it.

Just then, Lulu became fussy. The infant squirmed in Jenna’s arms and got that pouty look on her face she always did when she was about to cry. Jenna gently bounced her and took a seat in the rocking chair in the corner, opening her pajama top and letting her feed. Appeased, Lulu had her fill, and Jenna reached over for a basket on the floor next to the chair where small blankets sat. She picked one up and wrapped it around the baby, pulling her closer to her chest and leaning back, just rocking.

Jenna could count on her fingers the number of Christmas presents she’d received since her mama passed. But this? This was the greatest gift she could have asked for.


	2. Year Two

“Oh, my god, Jenna, you’re missing this!”

Jenna, who’d ducked away to the bathroom between dinner and presents had returned to Dawn and Ogie’s living room to find four grown adults--Cal had since joined their little posse since his divorce--laughing together and staring toward the center of the room.

She looked over at Becky, who’d called her, and noticed the phone in her hand, video recording.

In the middle of the living room, a tiny carrot-top danced around on a pretty green Christmas dress and a bow. A half-demolished cookie in one hand, a stuffed reindeer toy in the other, and chocolate all over her face, the one-year-old was babbling out what had to be “Jingle Bells” and bopping up and down on her chubby legs.

“Jingle bell! Jingle bell!” she shouted over and over as she ran around, her speech still slurred but clear enough to be understood.

Jenna shook her head and giggled. Her child would be talking everyone’s heads off soon enough.

“Little girl, you've had too much sugar,” she chided playfully. Amused but far from upset, she asked the group, “Who gave her another cookie?”

Dawn, with a shy smile, raised her hand and admitted. “That was me.”

Feigning indignation, Jenna pointed at Dawn and teased, “You’re keeping my child tonight.”

Becky snickered and put her phone down. “Good luck getting  _ this _ one to sleep.”

In the corner of the room, the channel the TV was set on was airing the old  _ Frosty the Snowman _ cartoon. As the theme began to play, Lulu waddled over to the screen and stood in front, staring up and dancing again. She also sang in babbles, not a care in the world that she made no sense.

Then she noticed everyone watching her and, ever the ham, began clapping her little hands and cheering, “Yay!”

The group, playing right along, clapped and cheered for her as she waddled over to Jenna. Her arms outstretched toward her mother, and the baker scooped her up in her arms.

“You need another bath, Superstar,” Jenna remarked, taking the bib wrapped around Lulu's neck and wiping the chocolate off her face. “Mama’s gonna be exhausted getting up in the morning for our trip to Manchester.”

Jenna wasn’t thrilled to be spending Christmas with her great aunt as it was, though she’d insisted on finally seeing Lulu. The three-hour trip was just icing on the cake.

“Maybe if we let her tire herself out, she’ll crash before you get home,” Dawn suggested. Then she tapped Ogie on the shoulder and urged him, “Sweetheart, let Lulu open that present from us. She’ll love it!”

The gentleman stood up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the tree. He rummaged around, finally pulling out a box from underneath a pile of gifts.

“Picked it out myself,” Ogie declared proudly as he brought it over to Jenna.

Curiously, Jenna reached for the present with her free hand and sat down on the floor with Lulu.

“Let’s see what Aunt Dawn and Uncle Ogie got for you, huh?” she spoke to the little one, placing the box in front of them.

Lulu stood in front of the gift, staring. As she placed her hands on it, Jenna reached over for part of the wrapping paper, tearing a little to show her how.

The one-year-old took hold of the paper and pulled, only ripping a little at a time. Jenna helped her finish, finding a festive box under the wrapping. She lifted the lid off the top, revealing a plush cherry pie-shaped pillow.

“Oh, my goodness, what is that??” Jenna asked her daughter.

Lulu grinned and reached inside for the pillow, which was half as big as she was. Realizing its softness, she pulled it into her arms and hugged it.

“Now you get to have your own pie like your mama makes!” Dawn announced excitedly.

Tickled to death, the child began to wander the room with her new pillow, clinging tightly to it and showing it off to the adults.

“I’ve never seen a child so excited over a pillow,” Becky remarked with a laugh. “I spent weeks trying to figure out what to get her, and apparently this is all it takes.”

“She's too much like me,” Jenna chimed in. “She doesn’t need a lot.”

She smiled as she watched her daughter show off her gift (which, decidedly, would not be going in her crib no matter how much she loved it). Undoubtedly, she’d be showered with toys and new clothes, but if Jenna knew her child, this was the one she’d stay attached to.

After a few moments of listening to chatter and observing Lulu, Jenna saw the child turn around and begin to waddle toward her. As she approached Jenna, Lulu held out her pie pillow and looked up expectantly at her mother.

Jenna, exaggerating excitement, asked her, “For  _ me _ ?”

The one-year-old nodded her head and placed the fake pie in Jenna's hands. 

“Oh, thank you!” Jenna continued to play along, then mirrored Lulu’s earlier hugging the pillow.

“Up,” the little girl beckoned, reaching out her arms. 

Jenna guided her to sit in her lap. Once the child was comfortable, Jenna placed the pillow in front of her. And leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek.

Lulu craned her neck to look up at her and, grinning, lifted herself slightly to place a kiss on Jenna’s nose. Mother and daughter snuggled up together as the group began to pass around the rest of the presents.

As the evening passed, there was lots of playtime with Lulu’s new toys, which included blocks, musical devices, and plenty of colors and shapes. Each adult--even Cal--got in the floor to give the toddler attention. There was also more caroling in baby babbles and dancing until the child was worn out.

Later, Jenna would find Lulu curled up with her pillow, asleep before they were even out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another installment! Just a reminder these are short little scenes, and I don't plan to beta them. So, if they're a little off...that's why.
> 
> As usual, thank you to everyone who takes the time to read these and send lovely comments.


	3. Year Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy snow day! Don't know if everyone else is getting snow right now, but it's been steady all day where I'm at, and it's put me in A Mood. So, here, have this offering of sugary snow fluff.

“Mama, look!”

Jenna pulled her coat in closer to her as she watched her daughter waddle across the snow-covered yard and dive into the ice-cold fluff on the ground. The two-year-old had barely been able to hold herself up in her snowsuit, puffy coat, hat, and boots.  The baker gasped and was about to run over to check on her when Lulu giggled and began making what she assumed was supposed to be a snow angel.

Jenna laughed and trod through the snow to join her. “Did Uncle Ogie teach you that?”

“Uh-huh,” the two-year old nodded.

Jenna, recalling the the snow day the previous week when the daycare closed and she had to leave Lulu with her dear friends so she could work, smirked and muttered, “Of course he did.” 

The two-year old stopped moving her arms and legs and, after a moment of squirming around to get up, reached out to her mother for help. Jenna helped her up, the two looking down at the baby snow angel and admiring Lulu’s work.

The child bounced on her feet and announced proudly, “I did it!” 

“You certainly did, darlin',” Jenna praised, offering her a high five. The girl barely missed her hand the first time but nailed it the second.

Then, with newfound enthusiasm, she looked up at her mother and declared, “You make one!”

“Me?” Jenna asked, placing her hand on her chest. “You want  _ me _ to?”

The child nodded excitedly, the biggest grin on her face. Jenna sighed. There was no way she could say no, could she?

“Okay, then.”

Swallowing her pride, she lowered herself to the ground and lay back in the snow. Lulu stood over her, watching expectantly. Jenna began to make her snow angel, moving her arms above her head and to her sides, spreading her legs out and bring them back in.  _ Horizontal jumping jacks _ , as her own mother used to call it.

After a moment, she found herself enjoying it, getting to do something she hadn’t since she was a child. Her only audience was a two-year-old, after all. Why couldn’t she have a little fun?

Except, in minutes, she felt a splash of cold on her face and felt the impact of snow hit her coat. She craned her neck to look up to see first a snowball across her chest, then, second, her child grinning slyly and giggling.

“Did you just…?” Jenna muttered, scandalized. When Lulu laughed harder, Jenna pushed herself up from off the ground and playfully threatened, “Oh, I’m gonna get you!”

The two-year-old yelled gleefully as she ran across the yard, trying not to stumble in her winter gear. Jenna, laughing with her, chased her while giving her just enough leverage to stay ahead. After a moment of giving her the satisfaction of her getaway, the baker caught up to her and scooped her up in her arms.

“Noooo!” the two-year-old yelled on a laugh.

Jenna lifted Lulu in the air before tickling her, earning more laughter from the toddler. “I told you I was gonna get you,” she teased, covering her rosy red cheeks with cold kisses.

Once the two-year-old caught her breath enough to speak, the sly grin returned to her face as she reminded her mother, “I got you  _ first _ .”

Jenna raised an eyebrow at that and challenged, “Oh you did, did you?”

“Uh huh.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” the baker asked her playfully. When the child shook her head, Jenna hollered, “More tickles!”

This earned a squeal of delight from the toddler, who laughed until she cried as Jenna tickled her sides. Jenna spun her around until they were both dizzy and out of breath from laughing so hard.

Once they were both calm, Lulu wrapped her arms around Jenna’s neck in a hug. Jenna pulled her in closer, warming her up. 

“Love you, mama,” the two-year-old said, burying her face into her mother’s shoulder.

Jenna, suddenly warm despite the exposure to freezing temperatures and the fluffy flakes of ice falling from the sky, began to walk toward the house and murmured, “I love you, too, my girl.”


	4. Year Four

The house was quiet as Jenna crept through the dark with the pristinely wrapped stack of presents. She tiptoed down the hallway, past Lulu’s bedroom, praying the three-year-old wouldn’t wake up as she was playing Santa. Navigating the living room, barely passing the coffee table without stubbing her toe, she placed the three boxes underneath the tree on top of the ones already there. 

It wasn’t much, and she had just a few more boxes to grab from her closet, but she was proud of the presents she’d picked out for her. Hopefully tonight, no surprises would be ruined. Especially with Lulu sleeping as lightly as she was.

Jenna turned around to go back to get the rest of the presents when she heard a little voice from the other room.

“Mama?”

Shoot.

Without hesitation, trying to come up with a plan to get her back to sleep as soon as possible, Jenna walked back to Lulu’s room. 

As she made her way down the hall, the three-year-old called more loudly, more desperately, “Mama!”

“I’m coming, sweetie,” Jenna called to her as she opened the bedroom door, peeking inside.

Lulu was curled up in her toddler bed, tugging her blanket closer to her. As Jenna approached, the girl coughed.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jenna asked gently, sitting on the bed at her daughter’s feet.

Lulu craned her neck to look up at her and placed her little hand on the front of her neck. “My throat’s scratchy.”

“It’s scratchy?” Jenna asked her, running her fingers through the girl’s hair. At Lulu’s nod, she placed the back of her hand on her forehead. She was burning up.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered, “I think you have a fever.”

She'd seemed fine before she’d gone to bed. A little more tired than usual, but nothing serious. Of course, children knew how to get sick at the best of times. This was expected.

“Don’t feel good,” Lulu muttered with a groan. “Can I sleep with you?”

With a nod, Jenna told her, “Let’s take your temperature first, and then you can come sleep in my bed, okay?”

“Mmkay.”

Jenna guided her to take her covers off, then she lifted the three-year-old in her arms. She was almost getting too big to carry. 

First stop was down the hall to the bathroom, where Jenna grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. She closed the toilet lid and had Lulu sit down. Then she placed a new plastic covering over the thermometer ear piece and brought it to the girl’s ear, holding down the button and waiting.

_ 100.2 F _

“Yep, definitely up there,” she murmured, removing the plastic off of the thermometer and tossing it. “We need to take you to the doctor tomorrow, but I don’t know who we’ll find on Christmas.”

She picked the child up again, carrying her down the hall to her bedroom. She placed the child on the side of the bed opposite where she slept. The girl reached for the comforter covering the bed and, while she didn’t cover herself with it, she tugged it close as if to cuddle into it.

“I'm gonna get you some water,” Jenna told her. “Maybe that'll help a little.”

Lulu muttered an  _ okay _ as Jenna left the room.

The older woman turned on lights as she walked down the hallway, making her way across the living room to the kitchen. She found Lulu’s favorite sippie cup, grabbing the Brita pitcher out of the fridge and filling the cup with cold water.

When she returned to the bedroom, Lulu was coughing more. Probably drainage. If they were lucky, she didn’t have strep, but...well, the fever said otherwise, and it had been going around daycare. Jenna knew if that was the case she would probably end up catching it as well.

She’d get tested as soon as she could get a hold of a doctor in the morning.

Christmas morning.

Jenna sighed, sad that Lulu’s joy over opening her presents would be dampered. But, she supposed, it would be worse to let her go the rest of the holiday without treatment.

“Here, baby,” she whispered, guiding Lulu to sit up. The child did, and Jenna handed her the cup. 

The baker rubbed her daughter's back soothingly as she drank. 

Once the girl had her fill, she handed the cup back to Jenna, who set it in the nightstand. She tucked Lulu in then, placing only the over sheet over her.

“I need Teddy,” Lulu told her in a near whisper.

With a nod, Jenna picked herself up from the bed and made her way down the hall to her daughter’s bedroom. The beloved teddy bear sat in the corner of the bed. With the utmost care, Jenna grabbed it along with Lulu’s favorite blankie.

When she brought them back to the bedroom, Lulu was already half asleep. She handed the bear and the blanket to the girl, who pulled them closer to herself, as if hanging on for dear life.

Finally, Jenna crawled into bed, climbing beneath the covers and rolling over to be closer to Lulu. The three-year-old rolled toward her and, bear and blanket stuffed between them, clung to her mother. Jenna wrapped an arm around her, not caring if she did get sick.

As she drifted off, she remembered there were still presents left to place under the tree. But given that Lulu hadn’t even asked if Santa had shown up yet, she figured it wouldn't be hard to get up in a few hours to take care of it.

Whatever happened tomorrow, she was determined to not let illness ruin Christmas for the precious little girl next to her.


	5. Year Five

“Mama, how’s this?”

Jenna looked up from the ball of dough she was kneading on the counter. Lulu, barely tall enough to properly reach the counter on her step-stool, was trying her darndest with the rolling pin to flatten out a pie crust. She was struggling, though, her arm strength not quite there yet. So, Jenna helped her.

Placing her hands over her daughter’s the rolling pin, the baker told her, “Here, baby, you need to make it just a little more flat. Look here.”

“Ohhhhh,” Lulu noted as the pair continued to roll out the dough.

Once they were finished, Jenna carefully transferred the crust to the pie tin in front of them on the counter.

“All right, kiddo, what are we putting in this one?”

Lulu pursed her lips and looked up, humming thoughtfully. Then, the proverbial light bulb going off, her eyes lit up as she suggested, “Peppermint?”

“Mmmmm!” Jenna agreed. “That sounds perfect for Christmas. How about some white chocolate with it?”

Lulu began to bounce excitedly, “Candy cane Hershey’s Kisses??”

Jenna nodded, “Of course! How about a  whipped filling?”

“Whipped?” Lulu asked confused.

Jenna grabbed the pie crust and turned around to bring it to the oven. The filling would be no-bake. “It’s all light fluffy. Like when we made that strawberry one, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!” Lulu recalled, wiping her flour-covered hands on her little apron - an early Christmas present. “Can we make that again?”

“We can soon,” Jenna promised as she set the timer on the oven, then set to rummaging about the kitchen for the ingredients she would need for the pie filling. “Now how about this other pie? Let’s try to come up with something Christmasy for that.”

Lulu placed a finger on her chin. “Hmmm...spiced apple and pear?”

“I like your thinking, my girl,” Jenna praised, reaching into the fruit bowl on the counter behind her for the said ingredients.

“That’s Aunt Becky’s favorite,” Lulu reminded her, a proud smile on her face. 

Her mother grinned back at her as she set the ingredients on the counter and began to roll out the other crust. “That it is, darlin’. That it is.”

Jenna then enlisted the four-year-old’s help, and they both worked the rolling pin together again. Before long, the baker was letting go so Lulu could finish it while she sliced apples and pears. After a few moments, the two became concentrated again.

While Jenna set to getting the the fruit in a skillet on the stovetop with sugar and cinnamon, Lulu seemed to become distracted by something on the other side of the kitchen. She stepped off of her stool and wandered over to the wide window in the wall of the little dining alcove. Jenna glanced back as she stirred the apples and pears, watching her curiously.

Finally, Lulu said, “I wanna call the first one Winter Wonderland Pie.”

“Why’s that?” Jenna asked, placing the lid on her skillet and padding over to join the four-year-old at the window.

Lulu pointed and announced, “It’s snowing!”

As she stepped closer and peered out the window, Jenna gasped. The ground outside was already covered in a dusting of white and flakes fell in droves, despite the weatherman’s call for slim chances. 

“We’ll have a white Christmas Eve,” the baker noted, grinning gleefully. “Maybe it’ll actually stay until Christmas morning.”

Eyes growing wide again, Lulu began to rock on the balls of her feet before turning to Jenna and tapping her on the shoulder, “Can we go sledding tomorrow?!”

The baker raised her eyebrows at that, suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of everything else she had to finish. There were the pies to finish. Cookies to bake. Ham to put in the oven. Green beans and mashed potatoes to cook. Eggnog to prepare. More presents to wrap. When would they have time?

She looked down to see her daughter’s puppy dog eyes then, pleading and pitiful. Her willpower to say “no” began to fade, and she chewed on her lip.

What was an hour?

“Okay, if there's enough. Before the party and only  _ after _ we get the rest of Aunt Becky, Uncle Ogie, and Aunt Dawn’s presents wrapped,” Jenna stipulated as she turned back to the rest of the kitchen to return to the fruit on the stove.

“Yes!!” Lulu cheered jumping up and down before bounding along beside her.

As Jenna removed the pan from the stove and turned the burner off, she took a deep breath.

They were in for a long couple of days. 

But when she glanced over at the four-year-old standing at her side trying to peek over the stove at what she was doing, she knew it was all worth it.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Year Six

Jenna could feel herself drifting off in the less that comfortable chair. Her eyes felt heavy and were trying to close, and the beeping of machines and chatter around her were all but a blur. For a minute, she thought she might actually take a nap.

Except a tug on her sweater pulled her out of her haze.

“Hey, Mama?”

Jenna looked down at the five-year-old curled up in the chair next to her, the girl’s eyes soft and curious, and asked, “What, baby?”

“How much longer?”

The baker looked at her watch. They’d been here for several hours now. Becky had even taken Lulu out to eat and to see a movie. Now it was nearing 9:00, and Jenna was heavily considering taking Lulu home and promising Dawn to see her in the morning after presents.

“I don't know,” she admitted to her daughter. “Babies are only born when they’re ready.”

Lulu released a melodramatic sigh and asked, “Did it take this long when I was born?”

Jenna snickered. “Kid, you have no idea.”

Not that Jenna really kept count (19 hours of Earl being an ass while she was in pain) but it had been a trip. That wasn't to mention the things Jenna couldn’t tell Lulu about the day she was born. So, yeah...the child had no clue.

“Oh.” Lulu sat up a little straighter in her chair, squirming to get comfortable.

The two sat silent then. Jenna checked her phone to see that Becky had texted her to let her know she was on her way from picking up the festive onesie she’d bought and wrapped the other day. (“Just in case the child is born in time for Christmas.”) The baby probably wouldn't get a chance to wear it before the holiday was over, but it was a nice thought.

Despite the late hour, the hospital still felt busy. Nurses were going back and forth. Clerks took phone calls. Doctor's came in and out. It was all just more quiet than the afternoon. Jenna watched the movement around her as she tried to make a decision about the rest of the night.

Then Lulu was tugging on her sweater again. “Mama, can I ask another question?”

Jenna, alert at the seriousness in her daughter’s voice, sat up more and gave the five-year-old her full focus. “Of course,” she told her. “What’s going on?”

“The baby gets a mama _and_ a daddy, right?”

Jenna furrowed her brow, confused. “Yes, he does.”

“How come I didn’t get a daddy?”

Jenna froze.   _Oh_.

The baker struggled to come up with words. There was no way she could possibly tell Lulu the truth yet. Or rather the full story. She was too young. But she needed to be honest. Unfortunately, she hadn't let herself dwell on what she would say when this day came.

Now it was here, and she was staring the result of everything she'd been through right in the face. She took a deep breath.

“Oh, boy,” she muttered, placing an arm around her daughter. “That’s...a lot to explain.” When Lulu stared at her, waiting, expectant, she continued slowly. “Everyone has to have a mama and daddy to be born,” she explained. Lulu nodded. “But sometimes mamas and daddies don't get along, and they find out that their babies won't be as happy with them together. So, they either decide to be mamas and daddies separately, or sometimes one of them leaves.”

“Is that what happened to my daddy?”

Jenna nodded and admitted, sadly, “Yes, baby.” The five-year-old frowned. Not disappointed, necessarily, but as if to process the information. Still, Jenna felt the need to clarify, “But that doesn't change how loved and important you are. It just means that I, Aunt Becky, Aunt Dawn, and Uncle Ogie love you even more.”

She let Lulu lean into her, holding her more snugly. The girl, mercifully, didn’t press for more information about Earl. Except she did have another question.

“What do I tell the kids at school if they ask why I don’t have a daddy?”

Jenna looked at her. “Have they asked you that?” Lulu nodded. The baker chewed on her lip, carefully considering her response. “Well, if they ask again, tell them it’s because you have a mama who loves you enough for both.”

Lulu clung to her further, as much as she could with the arms of the chairs between them. Jenna pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Besides,” the baker continued, “I bet they don’t all have mamas and daddies. Some might have just a mama, like you, or just a daddy. Some might have two mamas or two daddies. Some might have mamas that didn't carry them in their bellies like I did with you. Everyone’s different.”

“Really?” Lulu asked, sitting up straight again.

Jenna tried to smile hopefully, encouragingly. “Really, really.”

The five-year-old smiled back, seeming to accept what she'd been told, Relieved, though she knew the conversation was far from over, Jenna took her hand in hers and gave it a light squeeze.

As they were prepared to wait longer, footsteps could be heard from behind them. They craned their necks to find Ogie, a proud grin on his face, positively lit up like the Christmas tree in the corner of the waiting room.

“Dawn and I have a son!” he announced excitedly.

Jenna and Lulu gasped, the child clapping her hands together.

“Can we see him?” Jenna asked. “Or does Dawn need more time to rest?”

“She’d be absolutely tickled for you to come see him,” he told them. “She’s been askin’ for ya.”

Jenna had to quiet Lulu as the five-year-old began to bounce and cheer (how she had this much energy as late as it was, she’d never know). The pair followed Ogie down the hall to the recovery room, the child holding Jenna’s hand.

As Ogie pulled open the door, the first thing Jenna could see was Dawn sat up in bed; hair a mess, but face beaming as she looked down at the bundle in her arms. It was the most raw, joyful version of the young woman Jenna had ever seen.

And it was beautiful.

“Oh, my goodness!” Jenna cooed as she finally got a glimpse of the adorable baby boy in her friend’s arms. “Dawn, he is absolutely precious.”

A giggle from her friend, followed by, “Isn’t he the best Christmas gift we could have asked for?”

Lulu, who had clung herself to Jenna’s side, was peeking over, unsure as to how to approach the situation. Taking notice, Jenna placed a hand on her shoulder and encouraged, “Go say hi.”

Also apprised to Lulu’s suddenly shyness, Dawn chimed in with a whispered, “Lulu, I think someone wants to meet you.”

Cautiously, the five-year-old stepped forward, her mother but a step behind. She then reached Dawn’s bedside, standing slightly on her tiptoes as the new mother held the baby in a way to give Lulu a better view.

Gently, Lulu reached out to touch his cheek, running just a finger across it.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

Dawn exchanged a glance with Ogie before announcing, “Preston James Anhorn.”

“James after Dawn’s father,” Ogie jumped in to explain.

Lulu frowned then, turning to Jenna. With an indignant look, she told her, “I wish I had a little brother now.”

Wide-eyed, the baker placed her hands on the girls shoulders and laughed ironically when she said, “And...we’ll have talk more about that in the future. Years from now.” Then awkwardly, trying to find a way to change the subject, she feebly added, “Maybe.”

Dawn tried to conceal a laugh as she pulled Preston in close to her again. Jenna continued to take in the sight, in awe of her friend, and thrilled for her.

“Well,” Dawn piped up, still addressing Lulu, “even if you don't have a little brother of your own, you can be Preston’s honorary big sister.”

The five-year-old’s jaw dropped, “I can??”

“Why, of course!” Dawn looked down at Preston then and, though she expected no answer, asked, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The baby began to move his little arms then, his face scrunching up, let out a tiny cough.

“I think that was a yes,” Jenna chimed in.

As Lulu began to celebrate, glowing at her new title, there was a slight commotion from outside the room. It wasn’t but a few seconds later when Becky came bursting in, purse hanging over her shoulders.

“I got Ogie’s text and I tried to hurry back but--” she stopped dead in her tracks as she got a good look at Dawn and the baby. “Oh, my god,” she murmured on a breath. Then, grinning ear to ear, looking almost as if she was about to cry, she tried to keep her voice low as she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s beautiful! Merry freakin’ Christmas, Dawn! He’s an angel.”

“Thanks, hon,” Dawn told her. Then, looking back down at the bundle in her arms, smiled at the rush of affection. “Gosh, I love him to bits already!”

Becky seemed to take over from there, not purposefully trying to ignore Jenna and Lulu, just engrossed in the presence of an infant for the first time in five and a half years. The two women giggled and cooed over the child, leaving the rest of the room to fend for themselves.

Meanwhile, Jenna took a seat in the chair in the corner of the room, inviting Lulu to come sit on her lap. The child accepted and joined her.

“You know that’s how I felt the first time I held you,” Jenna whispered to her daughter.

Lulu turned to her and asked, “It was?”

Jenna nodded. “You didn’t come at Christmas, but you’re still the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

And it was the truth. Lulu may not have been what Jenna had wanted. She may not have been what Jenna had asked for. But she made every aspect of Jenna’s life more beautiful, more light-filled. She had become Jenna’s pride and joy. Her treasure.

Now Dawn was getting to experience that. In spite of the challenges and the sleepless nights, she would learn very quickly how having a child could touch a home and a heart.

And though it was late, and it was Christmas Eve, Jenna didn't mind having to stay in a hospital this long. Not if it meant she got to witness this.

She reckoned Lulu didn't mind, either.


	7. Year Seven

“Mama, wake up! Wake up! It’s time for presents!”

The boom of her daughter’s voice and the bed shaking jolted Jenna awake. She groaned as she rolled over in bed, opening her eyes to see Lulu jumping up and down on the mattress. The room was still a little dark, the light from outside the window a faded blue. Squinting she glanced over at the clock.

“It’s 6:00 in the morning,” she grumbled. “Can’t we sleep a little longer?”

“Oh, but I need to know if I got my bike,” the six-year-old insisted. _“Pleeeeease?”_

Rubbing her face with her hand, Jenna tried to ignore the puppy dog look on her daughter’s face. She was the parent here. She could decide that they wait.

Except she knew it was futile and there was no use in picking that battle.

Besides, she’d been waiting for weeks to see the look on her little girl’s face when she raced to the living room to see the bike with a big red bow sitting in front of the tree. It was the only thing Lulu had asked for all year, and Jenna had managed to deliver.

It was the sheer anticipating of making her daughter’s Christmas that prompted Jenna to throw the comforter off and tell her, “Well, I guess for you we can.”

“Yes!” Lulu declared jumping up, barely waiting for Jenna to get her feet on the floor before trailblazing across the room and out into the hall.

“Lulu, sweetie, wait for me!” Jenna called.

It was no use, though. Because not a few seconds later, she heard squealing and yelling from the living room and could feel the vibrations from the child jumping around.

“Mama, my bike!” she cried happily. “I got my bike!”

Jenna, who was padding down the hallway, turned the corner to see the six-year-old trying to sit on the bike. Only she didn't know how to ride one nor balance one yet, so the sight was comical.

“I think you need some training wheels and to get it outside before you can do that,” Jenna pointed out on a giggle.

Lulu paused then, still staring at the bike in awe, small hands touching purple metal. She stared up and Jenna then, her mouth falling open as she spoke her next words.

“Did _you_ get this for me, Mama?” she asked.

For years, Jenna had tried to distinguish between the presents that were from “Santa” and the presents that she could take credit for. It was how she ensured neither Lulu nor any of her friends felt shortchanged. And while she could tell the illusion was starting to fade, warranting a conversation probably by next year, Jenna knew Lulu had picked up on the fact that the bigger gifts (on the rare occasion she was able to afford them) came from mom.

So, to that, Jenna took her credit as she confirmed, “Yes, I did.”

Lulu flew to her at that, wrapping her little arms around her waist. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed.

“You’re so welcome, my girl,” Jenna smiled, leaning down to hug her. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Lulu parroted back. As they let go of one another, she looked up to ask, “Will you teach me how to ride it?”

“You know I will.”

The child’s face lit up, her eyes widening as she stood up and insisted, “Let’s go now!”

She ran over to the bike and began trying to move it toward the front door, only to be stopped by her mother.

“Whoa, wait a minute, little miss” Jenna told her, earning a pouty lip from her daughter. “I didn't say today. It’s cold, the neighbors are all still asleep, and we have lots to do to get ready for tonight. Also, don’t you wanna open the rest of your gifts?”

The child looked back at the pile of presents sitting underneath the tree. At first, she looked unimpressed. She already had her ultimate gift. Everything else would pale in comparison. After a moment though, she grinned as she realized the holiday joy didn't end with the bike.

“I do have more presents, don’t I,” she laughed at herself.

“You do,” Jenna confirmed, still feeling the warmth of making her daughter's Christmas.

“I bet Santa can't beat that,” the six-year-old challenged, pointing at the bike.

Jenna smirked as she watched her walk sassily back over to the tree. She knew in minutes Lulu would be engrossed in something else; the books she bought her; the brand new drawing kit; the unicorn onesie; the miniature baker’s set, complete with her own rolling pin. On top of the bike, she would certainly feel like the most spoiled child ever - a feeling Jenna knew Lulu wasn't used to on a material level.

While possessions weren't everything, it was the first time in years she felt she could give her daughter excess. And Jenna was proud.  
  



	8. Year Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another offering! Today is going to be a double post with more on the way. I've meant to post all of these on a different day. But now that we're at Christmas Eve, I'm going to get all of these out by tomorrow. So expect more tonight and tomorrow.
> 
> Hope everyone is having a very Merry Christmas! And if you don't celebrate, have the happiest of holidays!

“Mama, come  _ on _ !”

“Jenna, you’ve done this before. Just come down the dang hill before we all freeze to death!”

“It’s alright, hon! You’ve got this!”

Jenna stared down the hillside at her daughter and her best friends. She surveyed the slope and height of the hill, then looked at the flimsy sled at her feet.

It had been a while since she’d been sledding. She and Lulu usually went to the little rolling hills at the park just outside of town. They were pretty tame, nothing to worry about.

_ This _ was something else entirely.

Becky and Dawn had scouted out a much steeper hill, hoping to appease Lulu who’d begged for “real sledding” after hearing Ogie’s stories about spending Christmas in the mountains with his family. Jenna agreed, hoping she might get away with not having to sled.

Except Lulu, Dawn, and Becky had already gone several times and were less than appreciative of Jenna’s lack of participation. So, she had to give in.

And she was beginning to regret it.

“Y’all, I don’t know about this!” she called down.

“You can do it!” Lulu called back. “I know you can!”

With a sigh, Jenna replied, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sweetie!”

With one more apprehensive look at the hill, Jenna eased herself down onto the sled. She zipped her coat more tightly, as if that would help, and she tugged her beanie on further.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered to herself.

Then she pushed off, guiding the sled toward the slope and gritting her teeth as it began to descend, slow at first but picked up speed until she was racing down the hill.

Her heart pounded and she let out a scream as she whizzed past white powder toward the three bundled up figures at the bottom. Wind but at her face, and everything in her felt like ice. Meanwhile, the two women and her daughter cheered as they watched her.

They stepped aside as the sled began to slow down, gliding past them into the open field ahead.

Jenna swallowed and took a few deep breaths as it came to a stop. She steadied herself, standing up and turning to watch her daughter giggling.

“Mama, you did it!” she cheered as she ran over to her.

“See? It wasn’t that bad,” Dawn encouraged. 

“Well, it was definitely a rush, I’ll give you that,” Jenna muttered, brushing snow off of herself. “Not sure I wanna take that hill again, though. Maybe something a little smaller first, with a sturdier sled. Baby steps.”

“At least you tried it hon,” Becky told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Lulu nodded in agreement. “It’s like you told me,” she said. “Always try something before you decide you don’t like it.”

Jenna grinned at her. “I did, didn’t I?”

Smart girl.

The group picked up their sleds and began to walk across the field toward the parking lot. They agreed it was too cold to stay and were ready to leave. But where to go next?

“I say we go back to my place, make some hot chocolate, and convince the boys to watch  _ The Grinch _ with us,” Dawn suggested.

“Preston hasn’t seen it yet!” Lulu pointed out excitedly. “Can he sit with me while we watch it?”

Dawn nodded. “If we can keep him still long enough to watch it.”

“You might have to sit in the floor with him,” Jenna explained. “I think he stays more still when he’s building blocks.”

She glanced over at Dawn for confirmation, receiving a nod.

“He should be fine most of the movie,” the other mom agreed, “but that’s a good way to keep him invested.”

“Okay,” the seven-year-old agreed, skipping as they walked. “I’m so excited!”

As she ran ahead, the three women exchanged a smile, beaming together. This was what this holiday season was about.


	9. Year Nine

Jenna sped rapidly up the steps of the school, her stride purposeful and her arm strong as she swung the front door open. She chewed nervously on her lip, battling between concern and anger as she marched down the hallway to the main office.

She shed her scarf as she passed doors covered in Christmas paper, hand-colored trees, and candy cane designs.

_ Last day of school before break, _ she thought to herself.  _ How did this happen on the last day before break? _

The better question was how any of this had happened at all.

As Jenna walked toward the office, she passed what she only assumed was the nurse’s office. Inside, a little girl with honey blond hair, dressed to the nines, was holding a blood-stained tissue to her nose.

Jenna shook her head and sighed, venturing on to the next door down.

Inside the office, the secretary noticed her and immediately pointed to the redhead sitting on the bench over to the side.

When Lulu made eye contact with her, the girl’s eyes grew wide, shoulders hunching shamefully.  Jenna folded her arms across her chest as she approached.

“Hi, Mom,” she murmured.

Mom. Not Mama anymore. Mom. That was a recent thing. The reason she was here hurt enough. This small thing was just an extra punch to the gut.

Still, she sat down on the bench next to her daughter, ready to talk. 

“You wanna tell me why the principal called me at work to come get you?” she asked, stern though trying to remain gentle.

Lulu refused make eye contact with her, gaze falling to the floor. “I punched Ashley Morris in the face.”

“Uh huh,” Jenna nodded knowingly. “And why did you do that?”

Lulu shrugged. “I don't know.”

At that, the baker sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. None of this was going to be easy, was it?

“Lulu, sweetie, this isn’t like you,” she began, placing a hand on the eight-year-old’s back. “I know you’ve been having trouble with her this year, but you’ve never been violent with  _ anyone _ . What did she do to make you so mad?”

Silence for a good few moments. Waiting. Jenna ran through her head all of the things she could say to get Lulu to talk.

Then, finally, a response.

“She told me Santa wasn’t real.”

_ Oh _ .

Jenna stared open-mouthed, trying to process. “I see,” she said, sitting up straighter and crossing her ankles.

“She laughed at me, too,” Lulu muttered angrily. “She said I was a baby and that I needed to quit believing in fairy tales.”

Jenna frowned, torn between hurting for her daughter but also knowing this behavior was unacceptable.

“That wasn’t okay for her to do,” Jenna agreed. “That was hurtful of her to say, and you have every right to be upset.”

“Then why am I in trouble?”

“Because this isn't okay either,” Jenna told the girl, holding up her own fist. “If someone says something to upset you, you go to an adult. You don't give them a bloody nose.”

Pouting and crossing her arms, Lulu, argued, “But she’s been mean to me since school started.”

“I know she has,” Jenna coaxed, “but we’re trying to work that out, and unless someone is a threat and you have to defend yourself, it’s not okay to hit people. You  _ know _ this.”

The girl’s lip began to tremble, and she looked like she was about to cry as she finally made eye contact with her mother and said, “It  _ hurt _ , Mom.”

Jenna nodded. “I know,” she said. “But you're the better person. You always have been. And if that’s how she treats people, she’s only gonna hurt herself, because no one will want to be friends with her.”

“So it’s not my job to do that,” Lulu guessed.

Once again, Jenna nodded. “Exactly,” she stated. “Now, you’re gonna apologize to her and her mother, and you’re gonna do whatever the principal and your teacher think is fitting for your punishment. Then we’re gonna work on figuring out how to get you both on the same page.”

Lulu released a huff. “Okay.” The girl pursed her lips and looked away, off in contemplation somewhere. Jenna watched, letting her collect her thoughts. Then she posed the question the baker had been dreading for the last several minutes.

“Mom, was she right?” the eight-year-old asked. “Is Santa not real?”

And that, Jenna knew, was an entirely different can of worms. One she thought they might have taken care of last year, though Lulu had take a last minute enthusiasm for the idea; had even written a letter. She couldn’t break her heart then.

But now, it seemed, she would have to.

“Do you want to know the truth?” Jenna asked seriously. “Because once you know, you can’t... _ not _ know.”

Lulu nodded and begged, “Please just tell me.”

“While she was wrong in how she said it, she wasn’t wrong about Santa not being real,” Jenna said sadly.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. That hurt.

But instead of crying or reacting in shock, Lulu just nodded.  “I kind of knew that already,” she admitted. “I wondered last year, but I hoped maybe I was wrong. Then a couple of weeks ago, I just thought...it didn’t make sense anymore.”

Jenna began to run her fingers through the girl's red hair. “And are you okay with this?”

Lulu shrugged again. “I was sad earlier,” she said, “but now that I know, I guess I feel better.”

“I’m sorry this is how you had to find out,” Jenna told her sincerely.

“It’s okay,” Lulu replied smiling bittersweetly. “It was fun to believe, but I’m grown up now. I rather know the truth.”

“Okay, good.” The girl seemed confident enough, though Jenna knew they weren’t finished talking about this.

The pair became silent then, not sure what else there was to say at that moment.

After a few minutes, the door to the principal’s office next to the bench opened, and a dark-skinned woman in slacks and a red sweater, followed by a young bearded man Jenna recognized as Lulu's teacher, stepped out.

“Lulu?” the principal asked, serious though not unkind. Mother and daughter stood up, and she told them, “Let’s come in here and chat for a minute.”

“Go on,” Jenna encouraged.

They would be okay. Lulu would be okay.  While this wasn't how she wanted to start off the holidays, she knew it was life, and they could only take it one step at a time.


	10. Year Ten

“Ouch!”

The clattering of pots and pans and the slamming of cabinets alarmed Jenna as she padded down the hallway and around the corner to the kitchen. The sounds, along with the smell of something burning mixed with what she  _ thought _ might be coffee, had woken her up. 

“Dang it,” came the voice from inside the kitchen.

As Jenna entered, she could see her nine-year-old at the stove, switching back and forth between pans.

“Lulu, sweetheart, what on earth are you doing?” Jenna asked, bemused.

The girl turned around and gasped as she saw her mother. “Shoot! Mom, no, go back to bed.”

“Why?” Jenna stepped up to the stove.

The scrambled eggs in one pan seemed to be cooking well, though the bacon was ranging on the blackened side.

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed,” Lulu explained. “For Christmas.”

She started to struggle with the eggs, so Jenna reached over and said, “Here, baby girl. Let me help.”

Without taking the spatula from Lulu, Jenna reached over to turn down the burner and instructed, “Stir these for just a second while I grab a plate.”

Lulu did as she was told while Jenna shut off the burner for the bacon and turned to the dish cabinet. She grabbed two plates and laid them out on the counter next to the stove.

“All right, let’s plate those eggs here,” she coaxed, grabbing the pan and letting Lulu use the spatula to empty the eggs onto the dishes.

“The bacon’s burnt though,” Lulu pointed out disappointedly. Then she looked at Jenna and apologized, “I’m sorry. I really wanted to surprise you.”

Jenna shook her head. “Sweetie, it’s fine. You’ve never made bacon before,” she explained, moving said bacon to the cool half of the stove. She placed a hand on Lulu's back and told her, “And I appreciate the thought. I really do. You just need some practice, that's all.”

“I did make the eggs,” the nine-year-old accepted, smiling as she let herself feel proud of her accomplishment. Then she asked, “But what are we gonna eat with the eggs? We don’t have anymore bacon.”

“Hmmm,” the baker considered. “Why don’t we make some apple cinnamon waffles?”

“And then we can open presents?” Lulu asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering. “Because I really wanna see if you got me that makeup set I asked for.”

“I made no promises,” Jenna reminded her - all the while knowing she did, in fact, get Lulu the starter makeup kit to let her experiment and have a little fun with the YouTube tutorials she liked watching while she was still too young to truly wear it.

“But yes,” she added, “Waffles and presents comin' right up!”

“Awesome!”

Jenna began to search the kitchen for ingredients, meanwhile she told Lulu, “Here, get me the waffle iron from the bottom cabinet.”

Lulu obliged while her mother searched the upper cabinets for cinnamon and flour. The two worked together, gathering items and ingredients. Finally, once they had it all, they joined one another again at the counter.

“Will you teach me?” Lulu asked.

Without hesitation, Jenna handed her a measuring cup and said, “Absolutely.”


	11. Year Eleven

“Okay, Preston, be very careful.”

Jenna, who had just come into the kitchen to check on the Pecandy Bar Pie she’d put into the oven, entered Dawn and Ogie’s spacious kitchen to find her daughter hovering over her best friend’s five-year-old. They were both holding piping bags full of green and red icing, and Preston was trying (and struggling) to squeeze the sugary paste onto the gingerbread cookie in front of him.

“Like this?” he asked the ten-year-old.

She nodded and praised, “Perfect!”

“Can I make Captain America?” he asked eagerly.

Lulu scrunched her nose. “That’s not very Christmasy.”

Jenna, who was listening as she walked over it the oven to check the pie, chipped in, “Oh, why not? They don't all have to be Christmasy.”

Lulu, reluctant at first, reached for the box of food coloring and muttered, “Do we even have blue?”

As Jenna walked past her daughter after glancing in on the pie, she pat her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear, “You’re doing great, big sis.”

Lulu smiles and whispered back, “Thanks, Mom.”

The girl found another bowl and scooped a bunch of white icing inside, mixing in the blue coloring she found. Then Jenna watched as she guided Preston’s hands to make what could pass as a Captain America shield on one gingerbread man’s belly. The boy grinned excitedly and gasped in awe, proud of what he (though really it was Lulu) had done.

A few minutes later, there came a commotion from the living room, followed by Dawn’s voice announcing, “Crisis averted!”

Jenna whipped her head around as her friend, baby in one arm and a large bag in the other, entered the kitchen. Ogie trailed not too far behind her, two large trays of food in hand.

The baker helped by grabbing a tray to set in an empty space on the counter. Meanwhile, Lulu rushed to help Dawn out by grabbing the diaper bag from her shoulder.

“We found a nice spiral ham,” the smaller woman announced, setting the bag in the counter. “Shouldn't take too long to cook.”

“And I’ve got green bean casserole and mac’n’cheese,” Ogie added, setting the stray he was still carrying down next to the other.

“We’ve got desserts handled,” Jenna replied in kind, gesturing toward the array of cookies in the counter.

Dawn unbuttoned little Violet’s coat and removed her cap, revealing the infant’s ever-growing dark hair. Jenna helped, readying the highchair so Violet had a place to sit while they all got Christmas dinner ready.

“You know, it’s a shame Becky and Cal won't be here,” Dawn remarked sadly.

“I’d be less upset if they hadn’t backed out of hosting at the last second,” Jenna replied, trying her best not to sound petty. “But I guess I can’t hold it to them. They’re always on top of things.”

“They never said  _ why _ , though.”

Jenna, who could only make a very educated guess, snickered. “They didn’t have to.”

“What do you mean?”

Ogie had fetched a large pan while Jenna finally took her pie out of the oven. She adjusted the temperature for the ham as she told her friend, “I’ll bet you money they’ll come back married.”

“Married?” Dawn’s face screwed up, mostly in shock. Then she shook her head. “Naw, not them.”

Jenna shrugged. “Well, Ethel moved on pretty quickly after the divorce,” she pointed out. “She got her new wife. What’s to say Cal shouldn't get his? If everyone’s happy, that's all that matters.”

Dawn pursed her lips and gazed up, thinking about it. Then, with a conceding nod, agreed, “Yeah, you’re right. I just never thought they wanted that.”

“I never thought Becky would bring him to family holidays, but...that's the world we’re in.”

With nothing more to add, Jenna helped Ogie prepare the ham while Dawn gathered spoons for the rest of the food. Meanwhile, the two children continued to decorate cookies.

Once the ham was in the oven and all that was left was to wait, the adults, one by one, joined in on cookie decorating.

Jenna sidled up next to Lulu, and the two set to making gingerbread versions of themselves. The ten-year-old laughed as the baker made a sad attempt at a face on hers. All Jenna could do was grin.

“Not bad for a last minute Christmas, huh?” she asked the group.

When the answer was a chorus of approvals from her daughter and dear friends, followed by glowing smiles, she couldn't help but feel warm fuzziness inside.

Then when she watched Lulu turn to her best friend’s child and begin helping him again, she thought she might burst from the happiness in her chest.

There were just two people missing, though. But they would be back.


	12. Year Twelve

One week before Christmas. That was how long Jenna had left to finish her shopping.

Lulu's gifts were already taken care of and hidden at Becky and Cal’s. She had even bought a few things for Preston and Violet. Now it was just figuring out what to get for the rest of the adults.

And this year, they had nothing to say when she’d asked them what they wanted.

So, that’s what brought her and Lulu to Richmond, navigating a packed mall of shoppers who, much like Jenna, were trying to get their last minute Christmas gifts purchased. A feat Jenna, after an hour of searching, had decided was futile.

“How about Bath & Body?” Lulu suggested. “Aunt Dawn loves Winter Candy Apple, and I know she likes bath bombs.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Jenna replied. “She could definitely use some stuff to pamper herself.”

“Oh, what if we buy her a massage!”

Jenna laughed. “If I could afford it, that would have been the first thing on my list.”

The pair continued to weave through the crowd, looking for stores and searching for inspiration. The eleven-year-old was throwing out ideas as they went along, chatting merrily. Jenna had lost herself to the rest of the crowd, focused solely on her daughter and their mission.

But as they passed Kay Jewelers, she heard an all too familiar voice call her name.

“Jenna?”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

She knew the sound well. Knew exactly who it was before she turned. It was still that gentle, soft voice she remembered, though a little more gravelly with age.

Part of her wondered if she could salvage the moment, pretend she hadn’t heard him to avoid the reunion. It had been so long. But she also wanted to talk to him, to see how he was doing. She wanted to be friendly, enjoy a familiar face.

So she turned around and came face to face with his shaggy dark hair - how graying just slightly - and bright hazel eyes.

“Dr. Pomatter!” she greeted him, trying to keep the enthusiasm though she was beginning to melt inside. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” he agreed. Then he caught sight of the redhead standing next to her and, after a brief look of shock on his face, note, “This can’t be little Lulu…”

Jenna smiled proudly and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. “Sure is,” she answered. Then, realizing the girl had no clue who the doctor was, turned to her daughter and explained, “Lulu, this is Dr. Pomatter. He used to work in Stanton Grove.” She exchanged a look with him then, silently wondering how much she should reveal. After a moment of debate, she settled on, “He’s an old friend.”

Lulu nodded her acceptance, smiling politely. Then Dr. Pomatter, ever the gentleman and graciously with the program, held out his hand to the girl and offered a, “How do you do?”

Lulu, still polite and seeming comfortable, accepted the gesture and responded, “Just fine, thank you.”

The two adults let out a light laugh, and Pomatter added, “It’s really nice to meet you.” Then he looked at Jenna and told her sincerely, “And it’s great to see you again. How have you been?”

“Good,” the baker told him honestly. “I’m really good. I have full ownership of the pie shop, so I’ve been running it for a while. We're actually looking at space for a second location.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows, impressed. “Really? Wow. That’s wonderful. I always knew you had a knack for that.”

Jenna grinned, feeling her cheeks grow a little hot . “Well, apparently Old Joe thought so, too. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

Awkward silence fell between them. It gave Jenna pause, reminding her that...it didn’t make much sense that she was seeing him.

“So, what brings you this way, Doctor?” she asked, curious. “I thought you moved back to Hartford.”

He looked away, placing the hand that wasn't carrying a shopping bag in his pocket. Jenna watched him shift nervously on his feet and clear his throat before informing her, “Actually, _Francine_ moved back to Hartford.” If he noticed that Jenna’s gaze fell to his left hand - his _bare_ left hand - he pretended not to as he added, “I’m still in state. Masonville.”

Jenna tried to keep her face blank as she decided how she felt about the new information. This meant nothing, and despite how past memories - both fond and heartbreaking - came flooding back, she couldn’t let herself take this as anything except a incidental meeting with someone she once knew.

She glanced at Lulu, taking note of nothing suspicious or telling on her face. All she was doing was listening. Good.

Continuing the conversation, she asked, “And how’s that been?”

The doctor nodded and answered, “It’s been good. Been there about...six years now, I think?” Then he looked away as he added, “Although, I’ve been offered to return to practice in Stanton Grove.”

“Oh…”

 _Well, then_. Wasn’t that...intriguing.

Jenna took that moment to focus on Lulu again, thinking carefully about her next words.

“And the prospects of that are…?” she asked, hoping not to sound eager. (It was all just curiosity, after all.)

“I still haven't decided,” was his response. “It was pretty hard to be there for a long time.” Another look from him, an underlying sadness as their eyes met. “But I also can’t recall being happier anywhere else, so I'm strongly considering it.”

 _Oh_.

Also intriguing.

Jenna glanced at Lulu again, who was still oblivious. And while she could hurt for whatever it was Dr. Pomatter has gone through, she reminded herself she’d made the right choice in ending things when she did. She had nothing to feel guilty about.

But perhaps this was a sign - a Christmas miracle, if she wanted it to be - that there was a chance to clear the air, create a clean slate with someone who had genuinely cared for her and gave her hope when she thought her life was ending. Someone she’d made all the wrong choices with and was now in a place to make the right ones.

If that was even possible.

“Well, if you do decide to come back that way, you know where to find us,” she told him, devising warmth and acceptance was the way to go. “It would be nice to properly catch up.”

“It would,” Jim agreed. “I am flying up to Waterbury to spend the holidays with my folks, though.” Then, as if he felt the need to explain himself, held up the small Kay Jewelers bag he was carrying and told her, “It’s their 45th anniversary on New Year’s Eve.”

She nodded understanding.

 _Ah_. So he was buying for his mother. Not Francine. Not another woman.

 _But no_ , she told herself as soon as the thought crossed her mind. That was an old affair, an old flame. She had long since moved on.

God, though, had it stuck with her.

Just as she was about to speak, she felt Lulu tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, Mom,” she muttered, trying not to interrupt but definitely in need. When the baker looked at her, she whispered, “I _really_ have to use the bathroom.”

It was an out from this confusing and awkward conversation. Perfect.

“Oh, okay, sweetie,” she spoke in hushed tones. Then she looked up and Dr. Pomatter and told him, “Well, we hate to run off like this, but we’ve got some shopping left to do, and I think a break and some lunch are overdue.”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. Best of luck! Hope to see you again soon, though?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she shared his sentiment, despite needing to step away to process. “And please have a merry Christmas, and I hope your parents have a wonderful anniversary.”

“Thank you, Jenna,” he said sincerely. “You two have a merry Christmas as well.”

“Well, thank you, Doctor.”

Jenna tugged on her purse that was hanging from her shoulder, securing it better. Then she watched as Jim held his hand out to her daughter

“Once again, it was very nice meeting you, Lulu,” he said.

The girl took his hand once more, shaking it, and responded in kind, “It was very nice meeting you, too.”

(They hadn’t really spoken, but that was how Lulu was when she was comfortable with anyone, even with formalities.)

They exchanged a few more hasty goodbyes before he walked away, and Jenna watched him go in the opposite direction.

Things were quiet between her and Lulu as th continued on their mission. Then, as more distance grew between them and the doctor, Lulu commented, “He seemed nice.”

“He is,” Jenna had to agree. Because...well, he was.

However, she nearly choked when the eleven-year-old asked, “Do you like him?”

“Emma Louise!” she spat. It wasn’t hostile, just shocked, scandalized.

“What?” Lulu asked innocently. “You got all blushy and nervous. I was just curious.”

“Yeah, well, it’s nothing to worry about,” the baker tried to dismiss.

“So you _do_ like him.”

“I like _not_ having to explain myself to my eleven-year old.”

Lulu rolled her eyes. “Fine then. But I wouldn’t judge you if you did like him.”

“Good to know,” Jenna noted dryly. “That really isn’t something to be concerned about, though.”

Lulu shrugged. “Not concerned, just observing.”

“Then observe while we decide what to get for Aunt Becky.”

And with that, the conversation was over.

At least until the next Christmas, when Jenna would find herself inviting the doctor over to spend the holidays with them and their little family.

But she didn't need to think about that yet.

All that mattered was the here and now. And that was with her daughter, enjoying the time they had together.


End file.
